The Spiders Silk
by Kharma Lotus
Summary: A drow wizard seeking adventure finds out there is more to life than Lolth.
1. Default Chapter

The Spider's Silk By: Dagus Carthus  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own Lolth or any other aspects or ideas of Wizards of the Coast.  
  
Chapter 1  
  
Meziroth wasn't your typical drow city-state. Among the most prominent differences was the fact that it was carved out of a mountain. Over many millennia, the dark elves that inhabited the beautiful city had gone to great lengths to shape the stone into an intricate and functional maze of castles, shops, and institutes. Complete with smooth roads, gardens, and plazas, Meziroth was without a doubt a tribute to the ingenuity and cunning that was a trademark of the dark inhabitants of the palatial nation of cruel and malicious elves.  
  
Secondly, the residents of Meziroth had never been forced to live in the Underdark. They had succeeded in overpowering their faerie elf cousins. Any survivors had long since fled. Without any other enemies to pour out their wrath on, the drow had raided the outlying villages of humans and enslaved them. Any tribes of goblinoids that had ventured too close to the mountain met the same fate.  
  
Another interesting oddity was the trade that prospered between the braver merchants of the surface world and the drow nation of Meziroth. The slave trade was an easy way for a traveling merchant to get rich quick. The drow of Meziroth loved a good romp at the slave stockade, just as much as any other drow. Since the elves of this city were self-sufficient bartering was to be expected for some deals. Meziroth was fabled amongst the vile races as being the best source of reliable arms and armor. They mass-produced vials of poison, potions, and magical trinkets. After all, magic was innate to elves so why not cash in on it.  
  
House Xaltiir, the First House of the City of the Spiders Silk, was held in the highest regards amongst the denizens of that dark nation. Matron Mother Xaltiir, a high priestess of Lolth, had lived for nearly six hundred years as the venomous, razor-tipped voice of their deity. Her family was always the First House of Meziroth, since it's founding. As was the way of her family, she commanded the other houses with impudence and flippant disregard, secure in the knowledge that she like all Xaltiir females before her were favored by their cruel and capricious goddess.  
  
Matron Xaltiir was tall, lithe, and possessed of a stately beauty that was ethereal and deceptive of her true age. Her thick, stark white mane of hair was tightly braided into exquisite patterns. She was known for her extravagant, stylish wardrobe. Her favorite ensemble was a form fitting gossamer gown that was a pale periwinkle color. It had small gems sewn into the fabric, adding star-like twinkles when she walked.  
  
Matron Xaltiir had five children: Velina, Jepis, Llisidra, Drasna, and Illyfein. Velina was Mistress of Ssrilreshin, Meziroth's largest temple dedicated to teaching drow females the ways of the vile goddess Lolth. Jepis was First Boy of House Xaltiir, House Weapons Master, and a Master at Crenzibar, the fighter's school. Llisidra was also a high priestess and taught at Ssrilreshin. Drasna, enjoying the safety and comfort of the family castle, was able to take Llisidra's place as the family's chapel custodian. There she kept the family's genealogy records, made the day-to- day offerings and prayers, and kept up with the inner workings of the household.  
  
Then there was Illyfein. He was the family's House Wizard and Second Boy. Illyfein had just recently graduated from the wizard's academy, Ssrozbidel. Duplicitous and debonair, he was the family's playboy. Being the youngest, he had the least amount of responsibility. Matron mother Xaltiir, was always aware of his escapades, but lacked the time in the day to reprimand him. He was loyal to his mother and siblings, as they had inadvertently provided him with his ardent lifestyle. He had never openly disobeyed his mother and was in good standing with her as far as he could tell.  
  
Illyfein like his siblings strongly resembled his mother. He was tall with a powerful musculature. Although not broad shouldered like his warrior brother, he was supple of limb, graceful, and lithe. He was like most highborn nobles a picturesque example of drow beauty. He possessed a thick mane of finely coitured white hair. His glossy nails were always finely manicured. His only unique feature that set him apart from most drow was his vibrant, deep green eyes. They sparkled with a hunger for life that was usually burned out of drow of either gender at a young age.  
  
When he wasn't doing experiments in the laboratory, scouring scrolls and manuscripts, or scrying on the other nobles, he would go shopping and spend the day preening and primping at the posh spa's that were open all day, every day. For all his wit and charm, he was foppish beyond belief. He spent more money on himself then most drowess did. After all, he had a reputation for attention to detail that was to be maintained at all costs. That's probably why he was the most sought after drow in all of Meziroth.  
  
Today, Illyfein had taken it upon himself to apply to the wizards' academy as a master. He strode up to the Councils antechamber, confident as always, with every intention of admitting himself without prior notice. Normally, such an action would trigger the runes and glyphs that protected the private sanctum of the elder wizards; however, wanting to prove a point, the haughty drow concentrated and made a series of arcane gestures. The ensuing flash of light that followed told him his demonstration of power had dispelled the spells that had ensorcelled the heavy double doors. Smiling craftily, he flung the doors wide.  
  
A diminutive male, small even by drow standards, snarled at the audacious prince, "What is the meaning of this! Illyfein Xaltiir! Have you lost your mind? You will be punished for this impudence. I'll demand that Matron Xaltiir."  
  
"You talk to much, Master Quezli. You guys should really do something about those doors. Anyone could just walk right in you know." said the pretentious wizard.  
  
"What is your business, Illyfein? This brash display of power isn't your style. You graduated top of your class. Why ruin your reputation with Ssrozbidel by coming here and attacking the Council?" a middle-aged drow of noble birth addressed the younger Illyfein.  
  
"Oh, I am not attacking you by any means. That's foolish." replied Illyfein to the Archmage of Meziroth, his former mentor and father. Renzin T'le'drineth was the First Boy of the Second House and the consort of Matron Xaltiir. " I was simply hoping to become a Master, such as yourself. As you can see, I do not lack in arcane know how. So my dearly revered elders, would you be so kind as to deliberate amongst yourselves? I will tarry outside while you consider my offer."  
  
Spinning on his heels, he deftly spun about. Passing through the heavy doors, he slammed them behind himself. He straightened his garments and smoothed back a loose lock of hair. Looking around he noticed the expensive tapestries hanging on the wall; surely they were magical in nature. He peered closer, but before he could investigate the doors to the Councils chamber opened.  
  
Illyfein raised an eyebrow and wondered what the outcome would be. If they refused he would be at a loss. His plans involved the privacy that the walls of the academy would offer. The salary earned could help him procure things he wasn't able to purchase with the allotment of money his mother provided alone. He would need a base of operations, and a haven from his snooping sisters and overbearing brother.  
  
"Second Boy of House Xaltiir, you may enter now.", called his father. 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2  
  
Althegia was the home of the royal family and acted as the largest temple dedicated to the gods worshiped by the people of Izberhan. Only the highest- ranking priests, nobles of high birth, and citizens of the most honorable reputation were allowed entry into the golden halls of Althegia. It was a veritable paradise of exquisite hanging gardens, glass greenhouses of rare plant specimens, and a reserve for endangered animals found throughout the world.  
  
Unknown to most, the floating palace Althegia was Izberhan's greatest weapon against any outside force. It was a depository for the most secret of magic's and treasures. A mythal of great power had been erected at the birth of Althegia, and it that same force that enabled the palace to drift along it's set course, protected from the outside elements.  
  
The mythal kept out all unauthorized entry into the palace and provided the occupants with certain attributes: those that lived there, namely the royal family, did not age past a certain point, people who incurred injuries were able to heal much faster than normal, people touching certain glyphs could be transported to the other side of the palace in the blink of an eye, and many other strange attributes were set in place. This was the work of the most powerful priests and wizards of the land, who put aside their differences to create a virtual powerhouse that could govern the peaceful human nation and protect it from the influence of neighboring continents.  
  
Dharimihr Wrycroft was the new king of Izberhan. Standing some six feet in height, he presented a stout physique that helped him present the image of a worthy ruler. He was broad shouldered like his father and had developed a cunning, witty sense of humor that his mother had been cherished for. He had a bright smile that was innocent of the ulterior motives that most of the nobles hid behind. His eyes were a swirling canvas of blue, green, and brown that released the emotions the prince wouldn't readily admit. His thick brown hair was normally tussled as he spent a lot of time outside basking in the glory of the sun and the cooling breezes of the high altitude. He had reached the age of majority and was ready to accept the crown. Although he received a formal education and had the best tutors in the land, he had his doubts about his ability to govern the land and lead his people wisely. His grandmother, dowager Queen Jemmalaine, had bestowed the ancestral crown upon him endowing him with the respective power and authority of ruler of the kingdom.  
  
Dharimihr's parents had been the former rulers of Izberhan, but met with a tragic accident on a peace mission to Ildraphan, the nation of faerie elves. They were passing the Isle of Zaoul'tara, the nesting grounds of dragons, when a dragon turtle attacked. She had lost her eggs to a troupe of marauders, who had most likely taken them to the mainland of Lyonsbane. Blinded by rage, she smashed gaping holes in the royal vessel and those that didn't drown she boiled alive in the water. There were no survivors.  
  
Lyonsbane was the trade capital of the world. It also sported one of the strongest navy fleets, this side of the equator. Anything from elvish chainmail to exotic foods could be purchased in the bustling seaside bazaars. The locals were loyal to the crown, in return for the garrison's that patrolled the streets and enforced the laws set by the elected officials of the island.  
  
Dharimihr was nervous about addressing the Royal Court. If not for his cousins, the fair-haired twins Joser and Serra Azel, and his grandmother, he did not believe he would have the voice required to commandeer the gaggle of socialistic nobles. Here on Althegia, the floating palace of Izberhan, the nobles congregated to discuss the political positions of the country's cities'. This would be his first time addressing the issues that plagued his people.  
  
Boldly, he stepped through the archway and the trumpeters bugled his arrival. The masses parted and he walked to the throne, dignified and proud. The ladies of the court quietly whispered amongst themselves, commenting on the new kings handsome ruggedness. He reached the throne, did an about face and leaned back into the comfort of the cushioned throne. He looked to his right, signaling the chamberlain to admit the first person in line for a royal audience.  
  
A small girl entered the throne room. She was dressed as a commoner. Perhaps, she was a child of the head cook or one of the other commoners that comprised the castles staff. She was timid and obviously shy about approaching the king. She stopped in the doorway and looked down, unable to complete her mission. A few nervous seconds passed, when one of the noble ladies parted from the congregation and walked to the little girl's side. She was a remarkable beauty, poised and graceful. Reaching for the girls hand, she spoke quietly," Do you want me to walk you down the aisle? I'll help you, if you are nervous." The child looked up into the green eyes of the Duchess of Izberhan. The duchess was known by all the people of Izberhan as "the Queen of Hearts". She worked diligently in the villages helping the elderly and sponsored hospitals and schools alike. Her voice was soft and melodic, and was able to work strange magic when she sang, which she did often. The girl brighted with recognition, "Duchess Serra!" King Dharimihr smiled, he visibly relaxed seeing that his cousin was ever present.  
  
The girl curtsied for the King as best she could. She smiled her best smile for him and began, " Your Majesty, I am wepwesent the thurd grade class of Althegia Commons Elementawy. We have put together a play for the new king and was wonderwing if you would gwace us wid your pwesence.um, your Majesty." She shrugged her shoulders and glanced over at the duchess, unsure of what to do next. The duchess was beaming with pride at the girl, proud of her courage to speak up in front of the crowd. She nodded for the girl to turn back to the king.  
  
" I would be honored if you would allow me to see your play. The children of Izberhan must never be afraid to ask their king for anything. If you would, I would very much enjoy the company of you and your classmates for dinner that night to celebrate the success of your performance!", replied the king. He looked over at his cousin whose smile was infectious. He grinned. He loved his people as much as she did. This was to be a great start, to a new beginning. 


End file.
